A dream-like journey through The Needles

Claude Angers

This is a story about a “highway” that is more like a paved horse trail. The road meanders between and through spectacular granite formations. Spruce and pine forests surround it. Colorful aspen and birch trees, in season, peek through the evergreen forest. This is about a 14-mile drive that will remain indelibly lodged in our travel memories.

But this is getting to a cherry sundae before a sumptuous meal. As an entree, we should start our journey at Custer State Park situated in the iconic Black Hills of South Dakota. The park, situated at the southwest corner of the state, is a 71,000-acre home to abundant wildlife such as buffalo, elk, white-tailed deer, not-so-wild donkeys (more on this later), prairie dogs and more. It is not uncommon, as we experienced, to be stuck in a traffic jam caused by a herd of buffalo crossing the road.

Black Hills country, heading towards Custer State Park’s Wildlife Loop


We took the scenic Wildlife Loop Road, 18 miles of road in open grasslands where we sighted at least three herds of bison, two of which were of the close encounters type.

“Look! They are crossing the road!”

Just as Joanne was hitting the brakes, I took my camera out hoping to record the event and hopefully get a shot before they moved on. Well, I could have taken a thousand images before they finally gave us a breach large enough for our motorhome to safely proceed. By the third encounter further in the loop, we were seasoned veterans. The excitement of the first crossing having already dissipated. It remains, however, a spectacular sight.

The Custer State Park Wildlife Loop and its residents leisurely crossing the road

Once passed the loop’s visitor center (a recently renovated stone and wood beam structure worth the visit), we came to a stop at a place where wild donkeys roam freely. Sadly, these donkeys are more domesticated than your real wild variety, as guided tourist vans include this stop on their daily routes and feed the animals. We are not certain this is the best way to care for these so-called “wild” animals as they seem totally dependent on humans for their food.

Got anything to eat?

The loop road takes us to highway 87 where we turned north to start the journey on the Needles Hwy. This road, planned by the state’s Governor Peter Norbeck nearly 100 years ago, was completed in 1922. Not quite knowing what to expect, we started our journey from the south, heading northwest towards Sylvan Lake. There are warnings about the size of vehicles that can safely make it through the few tunnels along the road. Do not underestimate these warnings. as those tunnels are very narrow and of low clearance.

Granite “needles” peering through the fog and mist

This side trip was almost a non-starter because rain and fog had rolled in early that morning. But explorers we are, so we ignored the weather and threw caution to the wind and moved on bravely. Our traveling companions preceded us, slicing through the mist and fog to the point where we could barely see the distinctive Unity taillights ahead.

Twisting our way uphill

What strikes you at first as you proceed along the road is the feeling that you are in someone’s driveway. The narrow pavement is well maintained and there are no dividing lines. There is no shoulder to speak of on either side of the road, so meeting another large vehicle demands careful execution on both parts, notwithstanding the poor driving conditions. Then we arrived at our first major challenge of the day.

Iron Creek Tunnel

The Iron Creek Tunnel is 9’0 feet wide and 11’4″ feet tall. Our Unity’s width is 7′ 10,5″ and a height of 10′ 6″. Easy peasy.

A tight fit but easier than the next tunnel up the road

We stopped the vehicles and marveled at the workmanship involved in blasting a hole in such a massive granite wall. Either Governor Norbeck had foreseen that our Unity would fit nicely into the opening 100 years later, or LTV designers got it just right. Either way, we were thankful to be able to safely proceed through the tunnel and resume our journey towards what would become one of the most challenging driving feats we had ever encountered. The Needles Eye Tunnel.

Arriving at the Needles Eye Tunnel

The Needles highway was named after the granite structures that stand like needles. Although not of the same geological composition, they reminded us of the rock structures at Chiricahua National Monument.The needles took on an eerie ghost-like silhouette as we continued the climb along a winding track, craning our heads to peek at the needles through the fog and rain, slowing down to a crawl as the Sprinter’s gears downshifted and bravely powered its way uphill, en route for the next highlight of our trip.

Needles Eye Tunnel

The tunnel is 8’4″ wide and 11’4″ tall. Easy peasy? Hmmm, not so sure about that one… “This is barely larger and taller than our motorhome,” I said hesitantly.

“Who measured this tunnel?” someone asked. “I don’t know, I replied, but one thing I am certain of is that our side mirrors will need to be folded in”. Our traveling companions who (gamely) chose to go first, tucked in both side mirrors, turned on their headlights, and valiantly inched themselves into the tunnel. Sparks did not fly! We were impressed, albeit wavering a little bit as our turn was up.

Thanks to our friend Joanne Chenail-Trépanier for this video of the crossing.

We both managed to conquer the Needles Eye Tunnel unscathed. It is only after congratulatory high fives that one of us looked up and said: “Hey there’s the Needle’s Eye!”

Happy group posing at the Needles Eye (top right)

We wondered how many people cross the tunnel and continue on without seeing the whole reason why they are there in the first place.

The road at this point descends towards Sylvan Lake where we would eventually take Hwy 89 and 385 for a visit at the Crazy Horse Memorial.

Sylvan Lake

The fog lifted just in time for this shot then reappeared moments later

This would be our last stop along the highway because the next tunnel was too low for our motorhome. As we arrived, the lake was shrouded in a veil of fog. We could barely distinguish the shoreline or any of the beautiful features that contour the lake. Nevertheless, as we walked the path towards the water we met with two fishermen silently casting their lines into the fog. You could only just see their silhouette from a few feet away. But as luck happens to those who wait, the fog slowly started to rise, lifting its veil from the beautiful features around us. I approached one of the men as he was tending to his fishing rod and asked him if I could make a portrait of him as he cast away, resulting in a beautiful image in a dramatic setting. It was a perfect bookend for a dream-like journey.

This fisherman hadn’t caught anything yet but gladly posed for the portrait

Claude Angers

Related Posts